Excitement stirred in Bassan. “All of you are half-breeds?”
“Some of us are multiple breeds and a mixture of all the races. That’s why we owe no single race our allegiance.”
Bassan gasped and smiled. “You’re the eleventh race,” he cried. “That means there can be peace.”
Laughter burst from the pilot. “When the races don’t even want to acknowledge our existence? That will never happen, boy.”
“But it can—”
“You talk too much. Go back to your corner.”
“Please, I must go!”
Bassan bit his lip as the man raised the g*n and held it at arm’s length. No amusement adorned the pilot’s face now. Scooting backward on his rear end, Bassan slid to the far side of the tiny cave. He struck the wall with such force that the air left his lungs. Wheezing several times, he finally caught his breath. By
